


I'm the fuel and she's the spark

by JonSnowWhite



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jake is a scoundrel, The Mummy AU, and I love Jake and Amy, hiatus sucks, just because I love this movie, or so Amy says
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:39:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9741176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonSnowWhite/pseuds/JonSnowWhite
Summary: “You were actually at Hamunaptra?” her eyes bulge with interest.The prisoner smiles, a little crookedly, “yeah, I was there.”“You swear?” she asks him determinately.“Every damn day.”“No, I didn’t mean that…”“I know what you meant, I was there. Seti’s place. City of the Dead,” he waves his hands around a little trying to create dramatic effect.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yo!! Okay so, this is my first Peraltiago one shot, just because I miss them so much (and because I'v read every Jake x Amy fanfic in this site) so I decided to try my hand at this. I hope you guys like this silly little thing. I did a Mummy AU just because I love this movie so much, and I'm afraid they're going to reboot and shit on it, so... anyways, just a warning, English is not my first language, so if there are mistakes, I'm sorry. Tell what you think!!

_You think you know all about it, then it seems you are wrong_

_She hit it out of the park before it had even begun_

_I needed sunshine in the darkness burning out_

_Now I know that I'm the fuel and she's the spark_

_(Seafret – Wildfire)_

 

This is not a good idea is it?

Oh Lord, this is a terrible idea isn’t it?

When her co-worker Charles Boyle presented her with a once in a lifetime opportunity, Amy Santiago, librarian extraordinaire, had thought this was the world’s greatest idea. Now, faced with the reality of the situation, she’s not so sure.

The prison smells awful,it's very dirty and overcrowded with miscreants of all kinds and shapes – certainly no place for a lady such as herself. However, the opportunity to find the lost city of Hamunaptra, and prove to her boss, and mentor, Mr. Holt, that her talents are beyond her brilliant organizing skills, was much too tempting to pass it on.

Her co-worker, Charles Boyle, has acquired an artefact from a suspicious man on one of his travels. Obviously not understanding the meaning of the piece, Charles asked Amy for help. In her research, she found the artefact actually contained a map to the City of the Dead, unfortunately, it was partially burned due to Charles' clumsiness. With Mr. Holt’s hesitant approval, Charles and Amy were on a quest to find information about the artefact he acquired, hoping to fill in the gaps left by the lost piece of the map.

So here she is, in a dirty Cairo prison, looking for a man who previously possessed the box, so that he can tell them how he came across such artefact.

“Where did you say you knew this man from?” Amy asks, while walking closer to her partner, and trying to ignore the looks the men in the yard are giving her. For the love of God, are they all animals? Have they no manners whatsoever?

“He’s the one I bought the artefact from,” Charles Boyle tells her excitedly. “Oh, he is such a nice fellow, full of interesting stories to tell. You’re going to like him.”

“This way please,” says the ward, who introduced himself as Mr. Pembroke. He reminded her of a Vulture for some reason. She resolved to call him The Vulture in the secrecy of her mind. Amy took an instant dislike to the man, partially because of the way he smells, but mostly because of the way he leered over her with every word.

“I apologize for the stench, my lady. These are filthy animals, I'm sure a fine woman such as yourself is used to better company,” he says, while looking at her rear. Insufferable.

Ignoring the man’s particularly inappropriate stares, and the way he seems to want to move closer to her with every word, Amy turns to Charles yet again.

“Yes, I remember that, but where did you meet this gentleman?”

“Oh, well… at a bar, in Thebes. You see, I don’t usually go to bars, but I was out on an expedition with Rosa, and she wanted to go in so… I didn’t want to be impolite, so I accompanied her.”

“You met this man at a bar…? So he was inebriated when he told you about the artefact?”

“I suppose, yes… but it was a truly fascinating story.”

“And then he sold you the artefact?”

“Yes,” he tells her with a frown.

“You’ve bought it from a miscreant? A drunken miscreant, at a bar?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call him a miscreant, Amy, it’s rude to judge,” he gives her a very disapproving look. As if.

“Charles, look around you. We’re in a filthy prison, no offense,” she tells the ward, without really meaning, but the man only shrugs. “This man is indeed a scoundrel. How much did you pay for it?”

“I won’t lie, it was expensive, but it was worth it,” he exclaims.

“That remains to be seen. There is the possibility he was lying to you, Charles, he is a criminal after all. And then this whole ordeal will be a waste of time. Oh Mr. Holt will be so disappointed,” she sighs. Amy turns to the ward as they approach a particularly filthy looking cell, “what exactly is this man in prison for?”

“That I do not know. But when I heard you were coming, I asked him that myself,” he says, then he yells for the guards to bring the prisoner forth.

“And what did he say?” Amy questions.

“He said he was just looking for a good time,” the ward, or more precisely, The Vulture, tells her with a smirk.

Amy’s frown deepens.

She has no time to disapprovingly shake her head, because the door is opening and the guards are dragging the prisoner while yelling improper words at him. The man she’s here for is putting up a good fight. He curses and kicks, but the guards force him out the door and push him against the bars.

The man has white skin, tanned from the sun, stubble covering half of his face, and long, messy curly hair, tangling in knots. He looks like he hasn’t seen a hairbrush, or a bath for that matter, in months. Amy supposes that is the case.

She grabs Charles Boyle by the arm and asks, “Is this the man you’ve bought it from?”

“Oh, yes, indeed!” Charles moves forth, excitedly, as if encountering an old friend. Amy remains on her spot, eyeing the man with suspicious curiosity. “Jake! Do you remember me? I’m Charles Boyle!

“I don’t remember you,” the man grumbles uninterested, then turns his eyes to Amy, “who’s the broad?”

“Broad…?” Amy protest, confused.

“Charles Boyle! We’ve met on a bar a few months ago! You’ve told me all of your stories, and then I told you about my fiancée Eleanor! Oh, we’ve bonded, you gave me advice and then you sold me…”

Before he can take the box from its safe place on the satchel, Amy grabs his wrist. This is no place to show off valuable artefacts from a lost city.

“Yeah, it’s ringing a bell… who’s in the skirt?” he nods his head towards Amy, who scoffs, and crosses her arms over her chest, insulted.

A scoundrel indeed.

“This is my friend,” Charles tells the man, pushing Amy closer to the bars. She doesn’t have time to say that _no, they’re not friends, they’re co-workers_ , because Charles keeps talking, “Amy Santiago. Amy, this is Jake, Jake Peralta”

“How do you do?” even if the man she’s talking to is a scoundrel, Amy Santiago is still a lady, and she does not forget her manners.

“Oh well, guess she’s not a total loss,” the man says, looking her up and down, but not in a lascivious way, it’s more curious than improper. Even if there are no real venom behind his words, Amy’s still offended. What a rude fellow!

“I beg your pardon?”

There is a commotion in the yard, and The Vulture excuses himself to deal with the situation. They are left to their own devices then, making Charles move closer to Amy. The closest thing to security officers in the premise are the guards holding the man’s shackles.

Now, if Terrence Jeffords had agree to join them, instead of claiming this was a foolish pursuit and he had real work to do, Charles would feel a little bit safer right now. Not that he can’t take of himself, of course he can, no matter what Eleanor says. It’s Amy’s safety he’s worried about. Nevertheless, she does not seem concerned, moving closer to the bars to better speak to Jake.

“We’ve found your… puzzle box,” she explains with a almost-smile on her face, overcome with excitement over their expedition, “and we’ve come to ask you about it.”

“No,” the man says immediately.

“No?” Amy’s smile falls, and her mouth takes the shape of a frown.

“No. You came to ask me about Hamunaptra,” he says, looking as bored as Rosa Diaz on a seminar.

Charles immediately tries to shush him, looking around in fear of them being overheard. Mr. Holt did alert them about proceeding with caution on their journey.

Amy lowers her voice then, leaning a little closer to the bars to ask, “how do you know the box pertains to Hamunaptra?”

“Because that’s where I was when I found it. I was there,” he tells her, and that catches her attention immediately.

Amy moves past Charles and closer to the man behind the bars.

“You were actually at Hamunaptra?” her eyes bulge with interest.

The prisoner smiles, a little crookedly, “yeah, I was there.”

“You swear?” she asks him determinately.

“Every damn day.”

“No, I didn’t mean that…”

“I know what you meant, I was there. Seti’s place. City of the Dead,” he waves his hands around a little trying to create dramatic effect.

“Could… could you tell me how to get there?” Amy asks, and the prisoner blinks once. She removes her hat, to cover part of her face with it, then leans closer to the bars to whisper, “I mean, the exact location.”

“You want to know?” he asks her seriously.

“Well… yes,” she leans down to his level a little.

“Do you really want to know?” he asks, low voice sounding a bit husky, so she leans closer.

“Yes.”

He pushes one hand through the bars and motions for her to come closer. She does, leaning closer and down to his level, so they’re almost eye to eye. Once she’s close enough, he grabs her by the chin and brings her mouth to his, kissing her.

When he releases her, she gasps out her surprise, but doesn’t have time to react properly because the guards are on him, and then he is saying, “then get me the hell out of here.”

A fight breaks out, between the man and the guards. He tries, but they overpower him. Amy pulls back, still shell-shocked.

“Do it, lady!” he yells at her, while the guards drag him back through the door he came from earlier.

“Where are they taking him?” she asks.

“To be hanged,” the ward says, who's suddenly back. “Apparently, he had a very good time,” then he laughs.

 

* * *

 

 

The ward invites her watch the hanging from the balcony, while Charles Boyle is left on his own devices. If Amy wasn’t so concerned about saving the prisoner who knows the location to Hamunaptra, she would have noticed the cry for help in her co-workers eyes and would have intervened on his behalf. But she did not, so he remained on the patio, surrounded by guards and miscreants alike.

She watches as the guards bring the prisoner forth, while the others cheer from their cells. The scenario is gruesome, unlike anything Amy has ever seen before. The improvised platform where the prisoner is to be hanged is stained with blood and has seen better days. Still, he is dragged there by three men, while another waits near the rope.

“I will give you one hundred pounds to save this man’s life,” she tells the ward.

“Madame, I would pay one hundred pounds just to see him hanged,” he explains to her, while keeping his eyes on the yard.

“Two hundred pounds!” she bargains.

“Proceed!” he yells at the guards.

A guard puts the rope around the man’s neck.

“Three hundred pounds!” she tries again.

The guard tightens the rope with violence, then asks “any last requests, pig?”

The prisoner answers with a, “yes, loosen the knot and let me go.”

The executioner looks at the ward and questions if he should, in his native tongue, in fact let the man go.

The ward rolls his eyes and yells, “of course we do not let him go!”

The executioner shrugs, then slaps the prisoner in the back of the head.

“Five hundred pounds,” Amy tries one more time.

The Vulture motions for the executioner to wait, and turns to her – making uncomfortably intense eye contact. “And what else? I’m a very lonely man.” He then has the audacity to touch her leg in the most improper manner.

Amy is quick to slap his hand away with her purse. As if. The prison is filled with laughter then, the bystanders making fun of the Vulture. He does not appreciate this, as he demonstrates by giving the go for the hanging to commence.

“No!” Amy is out of her chair and yelling as the executioner opens the doors from under the prisoner’s feet, so he falls, rope around his neck.

“His neck did not break!” The Vulture laughs. “Oh, I’m so sorry, now we must watch him strangle to death.”

The prisoners cheer as the man strangles to his death, his neck and face changing color. This man is the only chance she has of completing the map and finding the City of the Dead, and now… well now he’s about to go to the City of the Dead. Without a choice, Amy turns to the ward and says, “he knows the location to Hamunaptra.”

The ward turns to Amy and eyes her suspiciously. “You lie,” he says.

“I would never!” she protests.

“Are you telling me this filthy, godless son of a pig, knows where to find the city of the dead?”

“Yes.”

“Truly?”

“Yes!”

“And… if you cut him down we will give you…” Amy looks at the man as he hangs, watching his pale skin turning a really deep shade of red. “Ten percent!”

“Fifty percent!”

“Twenty!”

“Forty!”

“Thirty,” she eyes him with that Santiago determination.

“Twenty five!” the ward confuses himself with all this bargaining.

“Aha!” Amy smiles triumphantly. “Deal.”

The ward whines, realizing what he’s done, but nonetheless tells the guards to cut the man down. The prisoner falls on the floor, alive, as Amy stands, feeling ecstatic by her victory. Winning is one of her favorite things to do, she thinks, as the man, whose life she just saved, sits up and looks at her from below.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Amy and Charles walk through the Giza Port, carrying their bags with them. The place is crowded and Amy keeps looking around for Jake Peralta, who she freed yesterday. He said he needed a good rest and a bath, when they got to the hotel they were staying, and then disappeared for the night. She sent Charles into his room in the morning to collect him – also make sure he did not flee – but Boyle came back empty handed, telling her that Jake Peralta would meet them in the port before their ship took to the sea.

Amy was suspicious of the man, who didn’t even say thank you after she saved his life. No matter, she’s not here to play knight in shining armor to a scoundrel, or collect thank yous, what she really cares about is finding Hamunaptra. She just hopes he keeps up his part of the deal.

“Do you really think he’s going to show up?” she asks Charles as the approach the ship.

“Yes, undoubtedly! I believe so. He said he’d meet us here, and he will,” Charles answers, with so much faith on this stranger, it makes Amy roll her eyes.

“You don’t even know him, try not to be so trusting so soon, Charles,” she chastises him. Charles Boyle is a good man, god knows, and sometimes that is a problem. He’s not very good in reading people, Amy knows that because she’s met his beloved – or devious – fiancée, Eleanor.

“Oh, Amy, don’t be so suspicious of everyone. I happen to find him a very pleasant sort of fellow, and you would too if you gave him a chance!”

“Well, personally, I think he’s filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel!” she declares, out loud. “I don’t like him one bit.”

“Anyone I know?” comes a voice from behind her.

Both Amy and Charles turn around at the same time. Her chin almost hits the floor in surprise. The man standing before her looks nothing like the rude, smelly, miscreant who forced his filthy lips upon hers the previous day – no he certainly does not.

The man before her is shaved clean, pale face exposed and kissed by the sun. His hair is no longer the knotted mess it was the previous morning, now it curls slightly against his neck and temples, in a shorter hairstyle.

His likeness is pleasant in a… uncommon sort of way. His nose is long, but she does not find that to be a flaw and his eyes are a soft shade of brown, nicely shaped and bright. The little dimple on his chin catches her attention, she did not notice this the day before, for his jaw was covered in untamed facial hair.

He is dressed in a leather jacket, with sand colored dressing pants and a white button down underneath. In his shoulder he carries a bag with the few belonging Charles Boyle bought for him the day before.

To sum it up, the man is… comely.

“Oh…” Amy slowly places her own bag on the floor, her eyes stay on him the whole time. “Uh… hello.”

He holds her gaze for a moment, until Charles pats him in the chest.

“Smashing day for the start of an adventure, huh, Jakey?” he then takes Jake’s hand and shakes.

“Uh, yeah, smashing,” Jake laughs, slightly.

“You don’t mind if I call you that, right?” Charles asks him, with his big doe eyes and harmless face.

“No, I guess not,” Jake shrugs.

“Mr. Peralta,” now the surprise has passed, and she had a moment to breathe, Amy is all business again. This expedition is one of extreme importance, and everything must proceed accordingly. “Can you look me in the eye and guarantee me that this isn’t all some kind of a… flimflam? Because if it is, I’m warning you…”

“You’re warning _me_?” he interrupts her. “Lady, let me put it this way, my whole damn garrison believed in this so much, that without orders, they marched halfway across Libya and into Egypt, to find that city. And when we got there, all we found was sand and blood.”

There’s a brief pause, where both Amy and Charles just look at him. Then Jake says “let me get your bags,” and moves, to collect Amy’s bags, breaking the trance.

He walks over to the ramp to embark on the ship, carrying his things and Amy’s bags, and she watches him all the way there, biting her lip.

“Yes, yes, yes, you’re right,” Charles says behind her. “Filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel. Nothing to like there at all.” Amy rolls her eyes at the smirk on her partner’s voice.

Just then, The Vulture appears, handful of bags, announcing himself with a smile.

“Oh, no, what are you doing here?” Amy grimaces.

“I’m here to protect my investment, thank you very much,” he says, while stepping into the ramp.

Amy and Charles exchange exasperated looks and sighs, before moving forward as well.

Oh, this is going to be an adventure all right.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for any mistakes, I don't know much about Egypt, I just watched the movie.   
> XD
> 
> Thoughts?


End file.
